Slave Unbound Ch. 14

Chapter 14

A Different Kind of Battle

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Disclaimer: This story is not meant as 'erotica', but dark adventure-fantasy. It may contain material that sensitive readers might find uncomfortable. Please be advised.

With a quick and deft turn to her left, her opponent's thrust was left to meet only empty air and he was left overextended forward. Not unprepared for this, he was quick to shift his own stance, bringing his shield in place to deflect the expected counter: a full rotation out of the dodge to strike at his retreating flank. His sword arm also lifted and rotated, letting his weapon drop in preparation for the possibility that she would instead reverse into a backswing. The block wouldn't have much strength, but neither would the attack due to having to fight her own inertia.

Of course, neither attempted defense did anything to protect him from Leita dropping to a crouch as she let her evasive turn become a full pivot, bringing her weapon low and into his calves. The wooden shaft of the practice weapon was more than solid enough to buckle his legs completely out from under him and send him sprawling backwards, his own practice weapon flying out of his hand. As gracefully as she'd dipped, Leita straightened back up and had the blunted tip of her sword against his chest.

"That was clumsy and stupid, Huelin." Kalder growled, stepping over to pick up the lost weapon. "I'm shocked you've managed to ever survive a fight."

Leita knew that his defense had actually been pretty good. Had she not been more than a full foot shorter than him, she'd had less luck managing to land the blow, as he had almost managed get his shield dropped in time. Huelin was a good combatant, but Kalder absolutely refused to ever give any sort of praise to her. Instead, he just berated her opponents if she managed to get the upper hand. Of course, let them land the blow on her and he gave her ten times worse bluster.

"Yeah, well, most of the people I've had ta fight ain't as good as her." Huelin sighed as he rubbed at his calf a moment. He shot an amicable smirk her way. "I keep fergettin' she's better'n she looks." He gave her a wink.

"Well, a move like that is all pretty when you don't have forty pounds of steel armor on." Kalder sneered. "If she tried something like that in the arena, weighed down and restricted, she'd be a sitting duck if her opponent doesn't actually fall."

Huelin's grin drooped a bit, obviously more intimated by the massive stone-like man than willing to press a defense for Leita. "I guess." He muttered as began picking himself up. "Still a slick move."

Her win against Delso had earned her a good measure of respect among the rest of the stable, as well as a place in the training yard. Winning against someone who'd been employing magic to enhance themselves was seen as a feat that even Kalder had been hard pressed not to acknowledge. Colja's pride in her effort was beyond question, the usually reserved aljin receiving her, animatedly, upon her return to the house. He'd given her a kiss on each side of her temples, a gesture in his culture showing that he honored her ability.

He'd also identified the nature of the small crystal she'd picked up from the arena floor. It was an item used in the casting of spells, though really little more than just a common piece of polished quartz. However, properly prepared and attuned, it could act as a focus for the weaving of magic. Out of the hands of a practitioner of mysticism, it was completely useless and materially worthless, however. For that reason, when Leita asked to keep the stone as a trophy when offered a request for a reward on her victory, the Mistress granted the wish without reservation.

It now sat on a slender leather thong around her neck, tucked away beneath the collar of her tunic. At times, she would sit and just look at the crystal, marveling at it. It was the first thing she'd ever truly owned, even if it was basically just a shiny rock. To Leita, it represented something that she'd found within herself, a strength that she'd never known.

"Alright, go again." Kalder announced, snapping Leita out of her momentary reverie. "And this time, little girl, no moves you couldn't execute in the arena."

She wanted to say that she felt certain she could have easily performed the move in the arena, given that she was only given lightweight armor. However, she knew that her right to train with the rest of the stable could easily be taken away again if she tested Kalder too far. Instead, she merely nodded her obedience.

For several minutes, she and Huelin exchanged attacks and defenses, sticking mostly to standard moves and tactics. After a while, Kalder moved away to begin barking at another pair of fighters who he could find more fault with. Once he was out of earshot, Huelin gave her a wily smile. "Ya can stop holdin' back now." He chuckled.

"You first." Leita countered, returning the smile.

Instead, he took a step back and crossed his shield and weapon to signal a need for a pause. "First, water. Though I'd rather it were whiskey."

Leita gave him an uncertain look. "Whiskey?"

"I fight best when I've a pint of sour mash in me." He said, giving her a wink. "Makes me bold."

"I'd think it would make you drunk." Leita countered.

"Tha's the idea, kid." He laughed. "The trick is jus' knowin' how drunk ta be. Enough so there's no fear, but little enough that ya ain't trippin' over your own feet."

Leita peered at the man a moment before shrugging and giving him a smile. Before being sentenced to enslavement as a gladiator, Huelin had been a thug and a thief. Despite his criminal background, he was rather personable, if rough-hewn. She found that she rather liked the man, even found him a little ruggedly handsome. While she had her doubts about being drunk in the middle of a fight, she wasn't all that opposed to the notion of sharing a drink with the man in a more private setting.

Following him over to the water barrel, she waited as he drew up the ladle to his lips, sipping almost daintily at it. Once he'd drained it, he refilled it and handed it to her. The cool water felt good going down, not even aware how thirsty she'd been until she'd begun to drink. Passing back the empty instrument, she turned to survey the rest of the yard while he took another draw from the water.

The dozens of fighters littering the yard were all going through their motions, most paired off one-on-one, though a foursome were also practicing against one another, overseen by the blue-lipped Myrinus, his similarly shaded hair drawn back into a short tail. Kalder, Colja, and Sasinel were walking among the various pairs, correcting stances, giving criticisms, and, in Kalder's case, occasionally dispensing harsh lessons.

The Four Elements, being far better in skill than the others, only seriously trained with each other, otherwise sparring with the rest of the stable only to teach them something, usually in painful ways. She'd come to understand Colja's warning that her victory over Kalder on her first day shouldn't be taken as insight into his real skill. Since then, she'd seen that he was indeed far more formidable of an opponent than she'd thought.

While it was hard to tell which of the other three Elements was more skilled than another, Kalder easily stood out among the four as the superior combatant. So good, in fact, that most of the stable believed he was enchanted in more ways than just his stone-like body. His talents and ability were enough to make even the cockiest member of the stable fear him and follow his lead on most everything. That he wasn't afraid to enforce his will with brutality only increased that obedience.

Only the Elements really dared to contradict or deny him, though in their case, he seemed willing to negotiate and respect their places as fellow leaders of the stable. In the case of Sasinel, she'd noticed, that respect was somewhat lesser than the other two, but there was still some measure of respect. As a sidil, only a few in the stable seemed to consider her worthy of the same respect as they gave the other Elements, though all knew better than to disrespect her in general. Even Kalder, possibly her biggest critic, was quick to punish anyone who did not obey her command over them.

As she watched the pale, lithe, figure appear to glide along amid the various sparring partners, the sidil's eyes met hers. She stopped and returned Leita's stare for a few moments, as though trying to silently cow her into looking away. When Leita did not, Sasinel's face shifted to something a little more curious and she started their way.

Leita quickly looked over to Huelin, in an attempt to warn him to look presentable, but he'd already spotted the approaching Element and was already stepping up to stand next to her. "Guess we took too long ta wet our throats." He muttered under his breath.

"I think this one is my fault." Leita admitted in a whisper.

"You've been lingering too long, return to practice." Sasinel said as soon as she reached them. "Or maybe you think this is your personal water well, hei?"

"Told ya." Huelin coughed as he started back to the spot where they'd been sparring.

Leita, however, remained in place. This was actually the first time that the sidil had directly spoken to her and she'd been wanting to ask a question. "Mistress Element, would you be willing to teach me how you fight?"

Sasinel raised a curious eyebrow at the request. "Is that not what I, and the other Elements, have been doing, hei?" Her crystalline eyes swept over Leita appraisingly. "And I am not your Mistress, nor need you address me as 'Element'."

"Yes, ma'am." Leita said quickly and obediently. "I am grateful for your instruction in general, but I had meant the...er..." She paused a moment, considering the best word to call her personal way of fighting. "You're 'battle dance', ma'am."

The white eyebrow rose again in curiosity. "My 'battle dance', hei?" A wry smile parted her lips. "You mean my martial art, 'Sie Faen Gael'. Looking to steal my culture's secrets too, hei?"

This time it was Leita's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Steal your culture's secrets, ma'am? I don't understand."

"You had Colja teach you his culture's martial art. I watched him teaching the style to you all last week." Sasinel explained. "You already fight like an aljin, now you wish to learn to fight like a sidil, hei?"

Leita hadn't realized that Colja was teaching her anything but general combat skills. However, as she glanced around, she realized that she did indeed fight differently than the others out in the yard. The difference was mostly subtle, but significant when one really paid attention. The constantly shifting array of fluid moves that he'd taught her had resulted in her using a much more graceful style of fighting. Only now did she realize that it mimicked the far more advanced version that Colja used, which made him so formidable.

Looking back to Sasinel, she started to protest, to explain that she'd not realized that she was learning anything special. However, she caught herself and reconsidered, straightening up. "Yes, ma'am. As you say."

Sasinel took a step back, now really taking a moment to appraise the young woman before her. After a moment, she gave a little sigh. "While it is impressive that you managed to learn Colja's style, even if only the palest shadow, I fear someone of your graceless ilk could not possibly manage to learn 'Sie Faen Gael'. I spent more years than you've lived learning what I know of it and I know less than a quarter of what there is to know. Why bother, hei?"

Leita felt disappointment droop into her at the refusal, but quickly rallied herself. "I believe Colja said the same thing, actually, ma'am. That it took people of his own tribe years to learn what I did in days. Certainly, no one else here seems to have learned it." She felt an instant regret for her words, knowing that she was vastly overstepping herself. She braced for a rebuke, be it verbally or physically.

"That is a good point."

She looked with surprise at the growing grin on the sidil's face, which seemed now far more amused and friendly. She thought she even saw a note of impressed approval there as well. "I'll teach you the first stance next week, but if you cannot manage even that within a couple weeks, you will accept that is beyond you, hei?"

Leita nodded in acceptance of her terms. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Now get back to practice." Sasinel said, gesturing to where Huelin was waiting, watching their exchange with interest. By the time Leita looked back to the sidil, she'd already glided back away into the other sparring partners.

"You're a bold one, ain't ya." Huelin said as she rejoined him. "Either that or tha unluckiest bitch in tha kennel." He gave a course laugh. "I ain't sure if havin' tha focus of one Element is a good thing, but three now?"

Leita gave a shrug. "I guess that depends."

"On?" Huelin asked.

"Whether there's such a thing as a fifth element." Leita replied smoothly, falling into a ready stance. However, she had to wait a few moments for Huelin to stop laughing.

For another half hour, the yard was full of the sounds of battle, punctuated by the raised voices of the stable's leadership giving critique, advice, or insult. However, a palpable lull moving through the group caught Leita's attention and she looked over to see Cookie, accompanied by a throng of guards and attendants, headed her way.

Knowing that nothing good ever came out of being approached by the consort, Leita braced herself for whatever drama was about to unfold. There was no question that it was she who Cookie was coming to, the woman's eyes locked solidly upon her, a sly smirk on her foul lips. The rest of the stable in the yard had all stopped to watch the group, but Kalder quickly barked at them to go back to their training.

Slowly, the sounds of practice returned as Cookie reached Leita and Huelin, the latter stepping away with a half bow at a gesture from the Mistress's concubine. Stopping in front of the petite gladiator, she gave her a quick once over with her gaze, as though gauging something.

"Obviously, start with a good bath." She said to the attendants with her. "Scrub her thoroughly. Her hair needs some attention too, it's beyond real saving, but maybe it could be made to not look like something a rat made." She plucked at Leita's dirty tunic. "She'd be better served to be put into something that can help make her look more like a girl, instead of a mongrel."

Leita endured the prodding silently, trying to sort out what this was about. Suddenly, a guess struck her. "Am I to entertain the Mistress for the evening, mi'lady?" She asked Cookie. She'd long assumed that the Mistress would eventually call on her to play with, considering all the comments Cookie, and others, had made regarding the Lady's proclivities.

Cookie made a derisive snort, sneered broadly, then snorted even more loudly. "Of course not, you grungy mutt." She laughed. "Mistress only desires to lay with beautiful things, not muddy scabs like you." She rolled her eyes as though the idea of Leita catching the Mistress's eye for play was absurd.

"However, apparently, someone else does appear to have a thing for scrawny rag-a-muffins." Cookie continued finally, her expression turning more serious. "The Mistress was given a request to make you available for carnal use. And for a sum far better than you are worth, if you ask me, an opinion with which the Mistress agrees. So, she wants to make sure he feels he has gotten his money's worth. I was instructed to see that you were cleaned up and, somehow, made to look more desirable."

Leita blinked in surprise, unsure how to feel about being specifically requested by someone outside the House. While she'd already prepared herself for the idea of eventually slacking the whims of her Mistress, she'd not considered that she might be rented out to anyone else. Steeling herself, she gathered her shield and practice sword and handed them towards Huelin. Eyeing her sympathetically, he stepped over to retrieve them before quickly retreating, less he might gather some of Cookie's foul notice.

"I will do my best to be worth the cost, mi'lady." Leita said diligently, her acceptance of this news so placid that she could see a good measure of Cookie's wicked enjoyment evaporate instantly. "Might I suggest strawberries in the bath? I've heard the scent on a woman can be very sensual, mi'lady."

Cookie glared at her, looking as though Leita had just stolen something from her. "Quite." She replied sourly before turning her attention back to the attendants. "Well, since she seems eager to be cleaned up and used, get her to the bath." She waved dismissively, seeming now bored with this duty.

Escorted off the training pitch, Leita spent the next two hours being washed, groomed, and dressed up. Despite what malicious glee had been taken out of the work for Cookie, she quickly settled into her element with the job. Having been previously trained as a pleasure slave, she was quite knowledgeable of how to make a woman look beautiful and appealing and seemed to greatly enjoy the art of it.

For her part, Leita obediently followed all instructions and patiently let the various attendants do whatever they needed to. Internally, she turned the notion of what was about to happen to her over and over in her head. While the prospect wasn't anything she was thrilled about, she found that she wasn't particularly dreading the encounter either. In a strange way, she felt almost flattered.

She thought back to the parade she'd watched that day when the Baron had taken her by the window. She thought of the beautiful pleasure slaves riding along with the Housemaster in the carriage, remembered how she'd fantasized about being one of them. Ironically, she found that the idea seemed less appealing now, not because of the duties that would have been expected of her, but simply because it seemed boring now.

Becoming a gladiatorial slave had suited her, far beyond what she could have ever imagined. For the first time in her entire life, she'd felt like she had some kind of power, some kind of control. Out on the sand, she controlled her fate and her life was her own. Her victories had made her feel alive and strong. As Huelin might say, it had made her bold.

"Miss Cookie?" She asked on impulse. "May I ask you for advice? On how to...best please the man who has requested me?"

Cookie paused a moment, peering suspiciously at Leita, as though she expected this to be a trick. "My, aren't you the dutiful slave? So desperate to please." A wry smile crept onto her foul lips. "Trying to curry favor with the Mistress in hopes of catching her eye, I assume. I bet you think that, if you can make her think you'd be a better pleasure slave, she'll take you out of the arena."

Leita gave her head a soft shake. "No, mi'lady. I like it in the arena. Though, yes, I wish to please the Mistress, as well. I want to make my House proud by being a champion, mi'lady, as well as in... whatever other duties she might expect of me. I've just little experience with...being especially pleasing. I know that mi'lady was formally trained in seduction, so I hoped she might have some advice?"

Cookie fixed an even more dubious look on her for a moment, but relaxed her glare finally and sighed. "The trick to pleasing any man is simply convincing him that you desire him more than anything else in the world. Act as though everything he does with your body is the greatest ecstasy you have ever felt." She gave a flippant gesture. "That and be otherwise not as ugly as a baboon. In matters such as this, men only care only that they get their egos stroked and their personal needs satisfied. Make him believe that you crave him and that his satisfaction is your satisfaction. No man will ever be disappointed by that."